Family Drama
by LiveLaughLoveFP
Summary: Spike and Sam both have family drama over the weekend and bring it to work with them Monday morning. NO SLASH! Please read and review!


**Pairing: **Slight Sam/Jules  
><strong>Category:<strong> Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Family  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Spoiler:<strong> Slight spoilers for 'Fault Lines' and 'Personal Effects'  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Spike and Sam both have family drama over the weekend and bring it to work with them Monday morning.

**AN:** I have to give a huge shout-out to rgs38 for beta reading this for me and to Justicerocks11 for the constant confidence boosts. Without them, you probably wouldn't be reading this. If you haven't aleady, check out Flashpoint Team One on Facebook and join the team for chances to win cool prizes and to have access to the most accurate and up-to-date Flashpoint news on the web. And meet lots of new friends! Flashpoint does not belong to me - it belongs to The Powers That Be. Please read and review (it makes my day!)

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><p>[Just after Personal Effects]<p>

The smell of bacon cooking woke Spike early Monday morning. Sitting up in bed, he blearily rubbed his eyes and stretched. As he swung his legs over the side of the bed, he groaned as the memory of the previous afternoon threatened to overwhelm him. Spike heaved a sigh – the mornings after were always silent and awkward.

Escaping from the house as quickly as he could, Spike made the short drive to the SRU. Striding through HQ, he nodded greetings to various members and took careful note of Sam beating the stuffing out of one of the punching bags. _'Looks like he had about a great of a weekend as I did,'_ he thought, pausing to chat with Winnie. Seeing Sam head for the locker room, he followed, purposely pretending like he hadn't noticed his friend's intense workout. Pulling open his locker, he turned to Sam and gestured towards his crumpled shirt, "Not a great weekend, I take it?"

~o~

Sam groaned as he rolled out of bed Monday morning. Weekends were usually pretty good (especially if he spent them with a certain brunette he knew); however, Sam had a very good reason to hate the previous weekend. Briefly cleaning up, he hopped on his bike for the short ride to HQ. Thankful the exercise room was empty, he strapped on a pair of boxing gloves, hoping to beat the memory of the previous night out of his head.

~o~

Sunday night dinners at the Braddock household were always tense, uncomfortable affairs; Sam knew that this one would be no different. As he stepped through the front door into the immaculate front hall, his youngest sister, Natalie, rushed up to him, throwing her arms around his neck in an obvious display of affection, "Sammy!"

Laughing, Sam peeled her off, "Hey Nat! I see you haven't changed."

Grinning up at him, Natalie shook her head, long blonde hair tumbling around her shoulders, "Nope! Although," she lowered her voice, glancing towards the kitchen, "if I have to live here any longer I might go crazy."

A light, familiar laugh reached Sam's ears and he turned to catch his other sister, Carmen, in a hug. Patting his middle sister on the head, he teased, "You cut your hair. I think someone is copying my style." Giggling, she gave Sam a light tap on the head, and fluffed out her short hair. Following her sister's gaze, she leaned in, "I totally agree with you Nat. I never thought I'd be so glad to move out." Glancing at Sam, she added, "You're so lucky the General basically kicked you out into the military at 18. The rest of us have to save up to get out."

At a sound from the kitchen, all three siblings broke off their conversation and stood to attention as their father greeted Sam. The two men formally shook hands.

"You're late Samuel."

Sam sighed silently, "I just finished shift. I made it here as fast as I could. Unless you preferred me to come in my sweaty workout clothes?"

The General gave him a dark look, "Less of your sass. I thought the military would have beaten that out of you. You've fallen into bad habits with the police."

Anxious to break the argument off before it started, Sam's mother, Hilary, stepped between the men to greet her son. Natalie and Carmen stood silently by, eyes averted from the scene. With all the formality of a hostess, Hilary led her family into the dining room for their meal.

An hour and a half later, dinner had been eaten and cleared away and the Braddock family had settled into the overly formal sitting room. Carmen and Natalie engaged Sam with questions about the SRU while Hilary anxiously watched her husband grow angrier. Finally, as Sam wrapped up a story about his teammates, General Braddock interrupted.

"You're wasting your time," General Braddock glared at his son across the living room, "and your talents working for the police. It's time you got back into the military."

Sam returned his father's glare, "And what if I refuse? I can't abandon my team. They need me where I am. I'm doing just as much good right here at home as I would be across the ocean."

General Braddock continued as if his son hadn't spoken, "I've already talked to the recruiting officers. The next returning-vets boot camp begins in two weeks. That should be enough time for you to give notice and leave the Strategic Response Unit."

"No."

Sam's mother and sisters looked up in surprise. Hilary placed a hand to her head and sighed audibly while the two young women exchanged glances. Natalie gave her sister a tight smile and Carmen turned to stare up at her older brother.

General Braddock slowly stood up from the couch, face as dark as a thundercloud, "What did you say to me?"

"I said no," Sam stood up, chair flying backwards. "I will _not_ be returning to the military. This job is my life now; I will not abandon it just because you say so. We may be peacekeepers overseas but I'm also keeping the peace right here."

Tension crackled between the two men as Hilary, worried and slightly panicked, tried to defuse the situation, "Gregory, please! Sit down. We can talk about it later. So Sam might not be ready to go back yet. He can still change his mind. Please, just calm down."

Her husband gave her a barely tolerant glare but slowly returned to his seat. Hilary gave him a tentative part on the arm and turned to Sam with a wavering smile, "Please Sammy, sit down. We can talk more about it later."

Grudgingly, Sam righted his chair and sat down, avoiding his father's death glare. Hilary gave another small sigh and tried to salvage the evening, "Now Sam, tell us about your lady friend; the one with the pretty name. Julianna? How's she been?"

Sam gritted his teeth, turning his glare on the curtains behind his mother's head, "It's still over. It came down to either us or the team and neither of us were ready to give up the team. But the feelings are still there."

General Braddock snorted with contempt, "It's about time you chose a side. A few months ago, you were telling us you would do anything for this girl but couldn't give up the team. You can't love her that much if you gave her up for your _job_."

Sam seethed with rage, "You don't know _anything_ about that! You gave up your family for your job! Yeah, we broke up. But you know why? Because what we were doing would affect the whole team. We could both get fired as well as the Boss for looking the other way."

Silence fell over the living room, finally broken by Sam's soft voice, "Yeah, I love her. I always have. But neither of us are ready to give up the closest friends we have. We'll figure it out."

Hilary gave Sam a sympathetic look, cautiously eying her husband. Natalie and Carmen ignored their father and stood to comfort their brother. General Braddock shook off the restraining hand of his wife and moved to stalk out of the room. Pausing in the doorway, he pointed an uncompromising finger at Sam, "Next time I see you, young man, I expect you to have all this 'figured out'," he gave air quotes. Hands now clenched at his side, he hissed the words at his son, "Do you understand me?"

Sam gave him a mutinous stare before muttering, "Yes sir."

~o~

Sam slowly flexed his hands, breathing hard from his workout. The hour long session had helped clear his head but he could still feel the anger simmering below the surface. Setting the punching bag swinging with one last jab, Sam trudged through HQ and into the change room. Yanking open his locker, he pulled off his workout shirt and tossed it forcefully into the bottom before ripping his uniform undershirt off the hanger. The sound of footsteps and the opening clang of a locker distracted Sam from his internal rant, reminding him of where he was. He took a deep breath before turning to give his teammate a smile. Spike returned his fake smile with a raised eyebrow, gesturing towards his crumpled shirt, "Not a great weekend, I take it?"

Sam snorted, "You have no idea."

Spike leaned against his locker, crossing his arms and giving Sam a stare, "Wanna try me?"

~o~

Spike stepped softly into his parents' home, the smell of his mother's traditional Sunday night lasagne surrounding him. The sights, sounds and smells that used to comfort him as a child were now tainted by his father's animosity towards him. Leaving his bag at the door, he followed the sounds of the TV past the kitchen and into the darkened family room. Greeting his mother with a kiss on the cheek, he took a seat on the couch next to his father, giving him an automatic, "Ciao papà." Dominic stared at the TV, giving no indication that he'd heard his son. Spike clenched his hands, taking a deep breath. He could do this. He could force himself to pretend that nothing was wrong. The hardest part was trying to keep up the act around his team. They expected him to be the upbeat, optimistic guy and that's what he used to be. Now it was all part of the charade. His one confidant was gone and the rest of the guys had their own problems.

Tuning out the sound of the TV, Spike forced himself to confront the question that his family had posed: could he quit the team? His automatic response was, no, he couldn't. And that cut him deeper than anyone would ever know. Essentially, he was abandoning his blood family for a job. Even as he thought it, Spike knew that wasn't true. Team One was his family and he couldn't leave them.

Crossing his arms, Spike gave up. This train of thought was going nowhere, as usual. Glancing over at his mother, Spike forced himself begin a normal conversation, "So Ma, I heard Luciana was supposed to call you today. How's my little sister liking college?"

Michelina gave her son a bright smile, "Ah, Mikey! She loves it!" Spike listened with declining interest as his mother continued to talk. He'd spoken to his sister the other day; he mostly just wanted to fill the silence. "...And she's made lots of new friends. Non è vero, Dominic?" Spike trained his eyes on the floor, '_Isn't that right Dominic?' _translating in his head despite his desperate attempts to not to show interest. Would his father answer while his son was in the room? As usual, the answer was no. Dominic gave his wife a brief glance before turning his attention back to the TV.

Struggling to keep his voice calm, Spike pleaded with his father, "How long can you keep this up papà? I'm your son; most parents would be proud to have a son in the SRU."

Seeing Dominic simply turn his head away, Michelina stepped in,

"You used to be a good son Mikey. You chose the right paths. But now, you might die tomorrow! Because you choose to be in danger! How are we supposed to take care of ourselves when we are old if our son dies before us?"

Spike listened in growing anger. These weren't new arguments but that didn't make them hurt less.

Michelina continued, her voice rising, "Why couldn't you be like your sisters? Nice, safe jobs. Their husbands have good safe jobs that make good money, Mikey! You could work for one of those computer places. You like computers, yeah?"

"Yeah, I like computers but that's not why I work for the SRU!" Spike almost shouted the words.

"Don't you speak to me in that tone Michelangelo! You could quit that job! I have seen the letters from other agencies! You could have any of those jobs. Sono più sicuri Mikey!"_'They are safer Mikey!' _Spike almost laughed at the statement.

He'd be bored in a week working for those other companies.

Michelina stood, gesturing in desperation to her son, "You could find a nice girl - not always be working! In the old country, we would not have this problem! Children listened to their parents! They didn't abandon them. Lasciare il tuo lavoro di Michelangelo! Portare la pace a tuo padre! It's just a job...Quit your job Michelangelo! Bring peace to your father!"

"It's not 'just a job'!" Spike retorted, turning once again to his father, "And this isn't the 'old country'! Why can't you realize that? I am saving people on the very worst days of their lives. If someone was holding one of my sisters – your daughters! – wouldn't you want the SRU there to save them? Or if they were threatening someone else, wouldn't you want us there to negotiate them down instead of shooting them?"

Spike's father stood, striding out of the room, his face averted from his son. Spike launched to his feet, shouting after him, "Can't you just be happy that I have a steady job that I love? Why do you have to do this!"

"Other people can do that job Mikey! Not you!" Michelina told her son tearfully before following her husband from the room. Spike gave the nearest chair a savage kick as the sounds of coughing were heard from the other room.

~o~

Sam shook his head, "No. Just...no. You wouldn't get it. It's nothing compared to your life."

Spike slammed the door of his locker, the sound reverberating in the small room, "Oh yeah? What do you know about my life? Hmm? Tell me!"

Sam exploded with rage, "I know your life is almost frickin' prefect! Girls fall in love with you the instant you smile at them. You live at home with your parents – obviously you don't have the issues I do there! Every agency in Canada wants you for their teams and they're willing to pay you the big bucks for it! You can have anything you want and you're complaining about your life!"

Spike stepped forward, heatedly shoving Sam into the lockers, "You know _nothing_ about my life!"

"Then why don't you tell me? Tell me exactly what is wrong with your perfect life!" Sam shouted back, his face an ugly shade of red.

Pent up frustration and pain rose Spike's voice to the breaking point, "You have _no idea_ what I have been going through! You wouldn't even be able to imagine!"

"If this is about Lew's death...it's been a year! I get that he was your best friend but that doesn't make your life any worse than mine! I've lost plenty of friends to landmines – more than you have!" As the words left his mouth, Sam instantly felt guilty. No-one ever recovered from having their friend blow up in front of them.

"This doesn't have anything to do with that! That is just a piece of the hellhole my life has turned into!"

Sam snorted sarcastically, "Yeah, sure. A hellhole. You still haven't told me what exactly is so bad about it!"

"MY FATHER IS DYING!" Spike bellowed. "He hasn't spoken to me in over a year! Do you know what that's like? Yeah, sure, you don't have the perfect relationship with your father. How often do you see him? Every few months? I have to see mine every. single. day. And he won't speak to me until I quit this job!"

Sam paled, "Spike...Buddy. I had no idea."

"You say I'm the guy who gets all the ladies? When was the last time you had a date? Two weeks ago? I haven't had one in almost 2 years! You know why? Because all my free time is spent trying to take care of my father or keeping up with new technology so that I don't put _your _lives at risk. How exactly am I supposed to meet said girls when I don't have the time to leave my house?"

Sam stood frozen in horror, trying to find the words to apologize.

"You know all those agencies that want me? Did you ever think that I don't want them? That there is no way I'd consider leaving this team because it's the only kind of family I have left? The guy I looked up to for years died right before my eyes and there was nothing I could do! Most of my family won't have anything to do with me because of this thing with my father," Spike's voice dropped, the bitter tone coming through.

Sam swallowed dryly, "Why don't..."

Spike raised his eyebrows, "Why don't I just move out? Because I can't Sam. In my family, the eldest son is expected to take care of the parents. And that's me. Call it what you will – old fashioned, backwards...I've heard it all. But that is how my parents were raised and how I was raised. If I even brought up the option of moving out, my mother starts with the crying and the guilt tripping."

He imitated his mother's accent, "Mikey! You don't love us! We are getting old; how are we supposed to take care of ourselves? You were a good son – how can you abandon your parents?"

He continued, his voice soft and defeated, "Moving out wouldn't solve any problems. If anything, it would create a whole set of new problems. Toth dragged out part of it during the interview and since then, it seems like the whole situation has gotten worse. I'm just waiting for it to blow over."

Stepping back, Spike leaned against the nearest locker and slowly slid down to the floor. Dragging one hand through his hair, he glanced up at Sam and whispered in a hoarse voice, "I'm sorry Sam. I shouldn't have taken it out on you. It's just..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

Sam crossed the aisle, sliding down the adjacent locker to take a seat next to Spike. The tired look in Spike's eyes went straight to his heart. His friend had been carrying this burden around for so long and no-one on the team had even asked. Casting his thoughts back, Sam mentally berated himself. The signs had all been there – withdrawing, a subtle change in personality, the aversion to talking about his family – they should have seen that something was wrong.

Hesitantly, Sam placed a hand on Spike's shoulder, "I get it Spike. I really do. My father has ruled my life for so long that I didn't know any other way to live until I joined the SRU. You're actually pretty lucky."

Spike gave Sam a dark look and Sam held up his hands in the universal 'don't hurt me' gesture, "Just hear me out. I'm actually going somewhere with this."

Spike sighed, "Sorry. How am I lucky?" He asked skeptically.

"Because you had a wonderful childhood with a father that loved you. He didn't abandon you on military bases, he didn't kick you out of the house the day after you turned 18, or set up a job for you that you weren't sure you wanted when you had to leave the military. He's still trying to rule my life; he told me last night that it's time I went back into the military. Apparently, you guys have been teaching me 'bad habits'," Sam glanced at Spike and was rewarded with a small smile, "and that's it's time I went back to making a real difference."

Spike snorted, "Judging by the fact that you're still here and that you tried to beat the stuffing out of that punching bag this morning, he didn't take it well when you said no?"

Sam chuckled, "No, 'didn't take it well' is an understatement. Ah well, it's nothing new. As you said, I only have to see him every few months."

Spike winced, "I shouldn't have said that stuff Sam. It was uncalled for. It's just...we had a huge argument last night and I've been keeping it bottled up for so long. I'm sorry Sam."

Sam grinned and gave Spike a pat on the shoulder, "It's already forgotten Spike." Getting to his feet, Sam held out a hand and pulled the other man up beside him. Both turned at the sound of the door cautiously creaking open.

Wordy peeked in. "Is it safe to come in?" he whispered theatrically.

Spike gestured, "Yeah man. C'mon in."

Wordy's smile was faint as he walked into the change room, "Tough weekend?"

The two younger men exchanged glances before nodding. "You have no idea," they chorused.

Wordy quickly shoved his hands into his pockets, his smile tightening, "You never know guys."

At their confused looks, he shook his head, "Never mind. We've got to go – Boss called a meeting."

Stepping out of the change room, Spike and Wordy took off ahead; while Sam hung back, recognizing Jules' slight form hidden in another doorway. Taking in her worried look, he glanced around for prying eyes before slipping his arm around her shoulders.

"We heard shouting. Are you guys okay?" she whispered with a cautious glance towards Spike.

Sam grinned, "We're good. No, seriously," he added, catching her sceptical look, "It's just family drama. He's stressed out, I'm stressed out...you know what it's like. We're all good now." Giving Jules a quick peck on the temple, he jogged forward to catch up with his teammates. Slowing to a walk next to Spike, he gave his friend a light shove, "We good buddy?"

Spike flashed him a grin, "Yeah Samtastic! We're good." To Wordy, he explained, "We both had family drama on the weekend. We took it out on each other instead of some poor person later today."

Pausing at the doorway, Greg raised his eyebrows at both young men, "You guys done with this? Good. 'Cause you're patrolling together today."


End file.
